Two of a Kind
by CopperMax
Summary: Maia and Gilan have been partnered for years. Now, they set out to Celtica with apprentice Will and Horace with them. Gilan X OC (follows the events of the burning bridge.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I read the series- fell absolutely head over heels for Gilan... and this happened. Figured I'd post it and see what happens...**

**Read and Review!**

**And before I forget-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Ranger's Apprentice or anything recognizable.**

**I do own Maia... don't steal her alright. Just don't, okay?**

**~Max**

Will had known she was different the moment he saw her. She was riding beside Gilan on the way to the Ranger Corps, one leg on either side of her Ranger-bred sleek black horse. She didn't ride side saddle as a lady should. A smirk was on her lips and her hair was down, blowing freely in the wind. There was a spark in her eyes and a smirk playing across her lips. She had been a mystery at that point. A strange twist in this new journey.

It seemed he was not the only one to think so. She'd earned many a stare that meeting. Though she stood tall against the oppostition, her shoulders back and head held high, a small smirk on her lips as she snuck a glance to the smiling man beside her.

Will had asked Halt if rangers often had partners. Halt had said no, a ranger's life was a solitary one in most cases. The pair of them were an exception, she was one in herself. The first, and only female ranger there was.

At the camp the two young rangers sat next to each other, laughing and carrying on as if they were the only two people for miles around. It was sweet, actually. Not that either of them noticed the looks cast their way.

Though, when not in Gilan's presence she was nearly silent, arms crossed over her chest and head bowed slightly. She almost melded into the background, fading out of spotlight and becoming a bystander. The smirk, however never left her face, and the spark in her eyes never faded only grew when Gilan winked at her or Halt placed a hand on her shoulder.

Will found she was like Halt in that way. Quiet and observant, though Gilan seemed to bring out something else in her, extracting small breathy laughs and exasperated looks from her otherwise unreadable expression.

That was a while ago. That was also why he laughed out loud when Horace called her 'm'lady'. She had shot him a look, one eyebrow raised and responded with finality, "I am NOT a lady," and then turned on her heel and walked into the forest.

Gilan had been laughing to himself as Horace looked after her dumb-founded. He clapped the boy on his shoulder with a smirk and told him not to worry. She"d be back, most likely with dinner.

"But she is a lady..." the boy had whispered as if afraid she may hear him.

Gilan sighed, "Yes, but not that kind of lady..."

Will had ducked out of that conversation.

"She's clever, cunning, perceptive, and smart as they come... but... not the kind of lady that becomes a diplomat." He paused, as if gathering his words. "Women, even diplomats are expected to be quiet, speak only when spoken to, obey, to cook and clean and take care of the kids. She's not cut out for that. Never has been," Gilan explained. "She's a whole different level of woman."

Horace seemed to understand that.

The message really dug in when he watched her throwng knives hit the center of the target. Every. Single. Time.

He learned to work around her, even with her as they traveled onward to Celtica. He still wasn't quite sure how to act around her, but Will see me to know. Conversing with the strange woman just easily as he didn't anyone else. The two seemed to be growing close.

Funny, that the two smallest members of the group should band together.

That was, when Gilan and she weren't lost in conversation and past exploits. Will and Horace had never seen a pair so at ease with one another, so comfortable with each other.

At the campfire that night she pointed out that Will seemed a bit quiet, lost in his head. Gilan knew first hand the pressures of being apprentice to Halt. She did as well. The there was a lot to live up to.

"Right!" Gilan announced, springing to his feet. "Lessons!"

The two young apprentices glanced to one another.

"Lessons?" Will asked, almost pleading.

She laughed, a smirk on her face.

"That's right," the tall young ranger responded cheerfully. "Even though we're on a mission its up to the two of us," he gestured to her, "to keep up the instruction for you two. Maia, get me my sword will you?"

She rolled her eyes at the request, but conceded.

Horace took up a confused expression, "For me? Why should I be taught any ranger skills?"

She picked up Gilan's sword and scabbard from where they lay beside his saddle and tossed it to him with practiced ease. Catching his effects, he withdrew the long slender blade from its leather receptable with a loving smile.

"Not ranger skills, my boy. Combat skills." Gilan smirked.

"Heaven knows we'll be needing them as sharp as possible," she added picking up her own daggers and throwing blades. "We're on war footing these days."

Gilan nodded before turning to the heaviest boy. "Now let's see about that toothpick you're wearing."

"Oh, right!" Horace said sounding more pleased about the turn of events. He drew his sword confidently, point politely toward the ground.

Gilan stuck his own sword point-down in the ground. Then held out his hand for Horace's, "May I see that, please?"

Horace nodded, hand in him the sword hilt-first.

Gilan hefted it with a calculating look on his face. He swung it a few times, experimentally, a smile growing on his features. "You see this, Will? This is what you look for in a sword."

She smiled at Will's decidedly unimpressed look. "It doesn't look special," he said apologetically.

"It's not how they look that counts," she told him with and upward tilt to her mouth.

"It's how they feel," Gilan explained, "This one, for example. It's well balanced, so you can swing it all day without getting overtired, and the blade is light but strong."

Tossing a throwing knife in the air, she added her own two-cents. "I've seen blades twice that thick snapped in half by a good blow from a cudgel. Fancy ones too," she added catching the knife.

"Sir Rodney says jewels in the hilt are just unnesecary weight," Horace added.

Gilan nodded. "What's more they tend to encourage people to attack you and rob you."

She smiled, throwing up her knife again as Gilan returned to business. "Very well, Horace, we've seen that the sword is good quality. Lets see about its owner."

Horace seemed hesitant. "Sir?" That never ceased to crack her up... him calling Gil sir... ah, priceless.

"Attack me!" He said cheerfully, "Have a swing. Take a whack. Lop my head off."

Gilan wasn't in the guard position, but she knew he was ready. Horace's uncertainty was understandable however. Point downward he gave a helpless gesture.

"Come on, Horace," Gilan smiled, "let's not wait all night!"

"But you see, sir, I'm a trainer warrior." Horace put his sword in the ground.

She hid her smirk. Oh how little he knew...

"True," Gilan said seeming to think about it, "But you been training for less than a year. I shouldn't think you'll chop off too much of me."

Horace looked to her, she purposely ignored him, throwing up yet another knife. Will only shrugged.

Gilan shook his head in mock despair. "Come on, Horace. I do have a vague idea what this is all about."

Horace reluctantly swung a half hearted blow at Gilan who didn't even bother to raise his sword, instead swaying easily to the side, the blade passing harmlessly by completely clear of him.

"Come on! Do it as if you mean it!"

She sheathed her knives watching as Horace swung a fullblooded roundhouse stroke at Gilan.

Gilans sword intercepted Horace's blow with ease, seemingly propelled by only his fingers and wrist. He did so with a grace that she never tired of, that she almost envied.

A ring of steel and Horace stopped, surprised. Maia snickered quietly to herself. Never underestimate a ranger.

"That's better!" Gilan said, "Try again."

Backhands, overhands cuts, round arm swings. Each time, Gilan flicked his sword into position, blocking the stroke.

Horace swung harder and faster. Sweat breaking out on his forehead. Soon, his shirt was soaked.

As Horace's breath came in ragged gasps Gilan deviated from blocking movement. His sword clashed against Horace's. Then it whipped around in a small circular motion so his blade was on top. With a slithering clash, he then twisted his blade down Horace's, forcing the sword point down. As it touched the earth Gilan placed a booted foot on it, hold on it in place.

"Right, that'll do," he regarded the boy calmly. A look in his eye told the boy that practice was over. Gilan knew that sometimes a losing swordsman may try for one last cut- at a time when the opponent considered the fight over.

All too often, it then was.

Horace snapped back lightly. Moving quickly out of reach of the sword.

"Not bad," she appraised, smirking at the boy.

Gilan nodded, sparing a glance over to her she stood, "Not bad is right."

Horace was mortified. "Not bad?" He exclaimed, "It was terrible! I never once looked like..." he trailed off. She smirked at the boy. "I never once managed to break through your guard."

"Well," Gilan began modestly, "I have done this sort of thing before you know."

"Yes," Horace planted, "But your a ranger. Everyone knows rangers don't use swords."

"Apparently, this one does," Will grinned.

Horace smiled warmly in return. Much to his credit.

"You can say that again." He turned respectively towards Gilan. "May I ask where you learned your swordsmanship, sir?"

She snickered once more, taking a seat beside Will who had a knowing smile on his face as he glanced at her.

"I've never seen anything like it."

Gilan's smiled, "There you go again with the 'sir'. My swordmaster was an old man. A northerner named McNeil."

"MacNeil!" Horace whispered in awe.

An amused and somewhat proud and admiring smile graced her features Will noticed as she glanced over to her long-time traveling partner.

"You don't mean the MacNeil? MacNeil of Bannock?" Horace breathed.

Gilan nodded, "He's the one. You've heard of him then?

Horace nodded reverently, "Who hasn't heard of MacNeil?"

Will, tired of not knowing what was going on, spoke up. "Well, I haven't, for one, but I'll make tea if anyone chooses to tell me about him."

She laughed, stoking the small fire they had going on. "Sure thing, Will."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Max here! I'm procrastinating, working on this and a few of my other stories when i really should be studying for my mid-terms... but i just can't seem to focus, ya know? I figure I'll study tomorrow and make-up for it. What do ya think?**

**Well, wish me luck, I suppose!**

**Read and Review!**

"So tell me about this Neil person," Will asked as the four of them were now settled comfortably around the campfire.

She smiled turning and throwing on one leg over the other and laying her head on Gilan's thigh. He only shook his head, used to her antics. He then looked to the two apprentices.

"MacNeil," Horace corrected Will before taking a sip of his herbal tea. "He's a legend."

"Oh he's real enough," Gilan said, "I should know. I practiced under him for five years. I started when I was eleven, then, at fourteen I was apprenticed to Halt. But he always gave me a leave of absence to continue my work under the swordmaster."

"But why did you continue to learn the sword after you started training as a ranger?" Horace asked.

Gilan shrugged, "Maybe people thought it was a shame to waste all that early training. I certainly wanted to continue, and my father is Sir David of Caraway Feif, so I suppose I was given some leeway in the matter."

Horace sat up a bit straighter at the name while Maia seemed to shrink into Gilan's side.

"Battlemaster David?" He was obviously more than a little impressed. He didn't notice the her slight flinch at the name. Gilan did however. He ran hand soothing through her hair. She and his father didn't have the best history, he knew.

"The new supreme commander?"

Gilan nodded smiling at the boy's enthusiasm while running his fingers through his companions hair. "The same," he agreed. Seeing as Will was still in the dark, he explained further, "My father has been appointed supreme commander of the king's armies, since Lord Northolt was murdered. He commanded the cavalry at the battle of Hackham Heath."

Will's eyes widened. "When Morgarath was defeated and driven back into the mountains?"

They nodded, her a bit less enthusiastic than the others.

"Sir Rodney says his coordination of the cavalry with flanking archers in the final stage of battle is a classic of its kind. He still teaches it as an example of perfect tactics. No wonder your father was chosen to replace Lord Northolt."

"So what did your father have to do with this MacNeil character?" Will asked.

"Well," Gilan said, "my father was a former pupil as well. It was only natural that MacNeil would gravitate to his Battleschool wasn't it?"

"I suppose so," Will agreed.

"And it was only natural that I should come under his tutelage as soon as I could swing sword. After all I was a Battlemaster's son."

"So how was it you became a ranger?" Horace questioned. "Weren't you accepted as a knight?"

All three rangers looked at the boy quizzically, somewhat amused at by his assumption that a person only became a ranger after failing to become a knight or warrior. Horace realized his gaggle and attempted to recover. "I mean... you know. Well most of us want to be knights, don't we?"

Will and Gilan exchange glances. Gilan raised his eyebrow and looked down to Maia to see her holding back laughter.

Horace blundered on. "I mean... no offense or anything... but everyone I know wants to be a warrior." His embarrassment lessened as he pointed a finger at Will. "You did yourself, Will, I remember when we were kids you used to say you were going to Battleshchool and you'd become a famous knight!"

Will uncomfortability was obvious, "And you always sneered at me, didn't you, and said I'd be too small?"

"Well, You were!" Horace defense with some heat.

"Is that right?" Will voice was rising. "Well, does it occur to you that maybe Halt had already spoken to Sir Rodney and said he'd wanted me as an apprentice? And that's the reason why I wasn't selected for Battleschool? Has that ever occurred to you?"

She sat straight up, elbow on Gilan's thigh. "I think that's enough of childhood squabbles!" She inturrupted before it got any worse. Gilan nodded firmly in agreement.

"Oh... yes. Right," Will mumbled, "Sorry."

Horace nodded embarrassed. "Me too," the curiosity piqued, he asked, "Is that how it happened, Will? Did Halt tell Sir Rodney not to pick you because he wanted you for a ranger?"

Will dropped his gaze, picking at loose threads on his shirt. "Well... not exactly," he admitted, "And you were right. I did always want to be a knight when I was a kid." But then turning to the two other rangers he quickly added, "But I wouldn't change now! Not for anything!"

The two smiled, her falling back onto Gilan's leg. Will caught the ranger's small smiled as he draped an arm over her, "I was the opposite. Remember I grew up in Battleschool. I may have started my training with MacNeil when I was eleven, but I began my basic training at around nine."

"That must've been wonderful," Horace said with a sigh.

Gilan shook his head. "Not to me. You know what they say about distant pastures always looking greener?" Both boys looked puzzled.

"It means you always want what you haven't got," she clarified, looking almost bored at the topic of discussion.

"Well that's the way I was," Gilan said. "By the time I was twelve, I was sick to death of the discipline and drills and parades." He glanced sidelong at Horace. "There's a bit of that goes on at Battleschool, you know."

"You're telling me," Horace sighed, "Still, the horsemanship and practice combats are fun."

Gilan shrugged, "Maybe, but I was more interested in the life the rangers led. After Hackham Heath, my father and Halt became good friends and Halt used to come visiting. I'd watch him come and go. So mysterious. So adventurous. I started to think what it might be like to come and go as you please. People know so little about rangers it seemed the most exciting thing in the world to me."

Horace looked doubtful, "I've always been a little scared of Halt. I used to think he was some kind of sorcerer."

Wilt snorted in disbelief, "Halt? a sorcerer? Hes nothing of the kind!"

"But you used to think the same thing!" Horace exclaimed.

"Well... I suppose," Will said, "but I was only a kid then."

"So was I!" Horace countered with devastating logic. The two older rangers laughed.

Will brought the conversation back to its original grounds. "Did you ask Halt to take you as an apprentice?" He continued without room for response, "What did he say to that?"

"I didn't ask him anything," Gilan told them, "I followed him one day when he left our castle and headed into the forest."

"You followed him?" Horace exclaimed in disbelief, "A ranger? You followed a ranger into the Forest?"

Will sprang to Gilan's defense "Gil' and Maia are some of the best unseen movers in the ranger corps!... the best probably."

"I wasn't then," Gilan said ruefully, "Mind you, I though I knew a bit about moving without being seen. I found out how little I actually did know when I tried to sneak up on Halt when he stopped for an evening meal. Next thing I knew his hand grabbed me by the scruff of the next and threw me into a stream."

He smiled at the memory.

"I suppose he sent you home in disgrace then?" Horace mused.

Gilan shook his head, "On the contrary, he kept me with him for a week, said I wasn't too bad at sneaking around in the forest and I might have some talent as an unseen mover. He started to teach me about being a ranger- and by the end of the week I was his apprentice."

"How did your father take it when you told him?" Horace asked, "Surely he wanted you to be a knight like him. I guess he was disappointed."

"Not at all," Gilan told them, "The strange thing was Halt had told him that I'd probably be following him into the forest. My Father had already agreed that I could serve as Halt's apprentice before I even knew I wanted to."

Horace was awestruck. "How could Halt have known that?"

Gilan shrugged and looked at Will meaningfully. She smirked "Halt has a way of knowing things doesn't he, Will?"

"Maybe in his own way, he is kind of a sorcerer?" Will mused.

"Well, what about you Maia?" Horace asked.

She squirmed uncomfortably. "My story is a bit of a downer," she said with a small strangely uncomfortable smile that didn't look right on her face.

Gilan's arm squeezed her a bit in an attempt to reassure her.

She sighed and began, "I never thought I'd get the chance to be anything more than the scum of the street. I didn't have the opportunities you two did..." she looked to the two apprentices with a fond look in her eyes, "You see, my mother left when I was very young... and my father..." she bit her lip, "Well, he was a criminal. He got himself hauled into jail before I could take care of myself. I got involved with bad people and when they dumped me back out onto the streets, I did the only thing I could to survive. I stole... necklaces, rings, swords, daggers," she listed, "Anything that'd fetch a price. Half of it was spent on food... and even then I went hungry half the time..."

The boys were awestruck. Maia? A theif? Well they supposed she had the talent for it...

"By the time I was ten I could steal just about anything from anyone... I started getting offers, jobs." She bit her lip and sighed, "I was young and dumb and I took whatever was offered... that when I started stealing from the nobles and the knights... I was good at it too. I succeed... that was until I tried to pick-pocket a key off of Sir David."

The boys gasped, "You didn't!"

She nodded sadly, "I did... he had a price on my head after that... him and half the lords in the town once they pulled their head far enough out of their asses to see," she couldn't resist adding in the pointed jab. "... He scared the living daylights out of me... almost caught me a few times..." she shivered at the thought. "Anyways, I was thirteen then, and a wanted felon. I still couldn't get a job and I was starving. I figured I get a pretty penny for a ranger's knife..."


	3. Chapter 3

_~ I figured I get a pretty penny for a ranger's knife...~_

Their eyes widened.

"Halt was no easy prey, but as I said, I was good at what I did... I had just. wrapped my hand around the hilt when he picked me up and threw me into the nearest pile a hay." She laughed, "He does seem to enjoy throwing people around."

"He didn't hand you over to the guards?" Horace asked.

She smiled, "No... he asked me where I'd learned to move like that... through the shadows... unseen."

She glanced to Gilan who nodded with a small smile.

"I told him years living in the gutter with the lowest of the low teaches you how to get from place to place. He bought me some food... clothes... and then he took me with him."

Gilan piped up then, "It was quite the shock to see a pretty young girl open the cabin door instead of Halt when I got back."

Maia elbowed him and he laughed, glancing down at her with an amused glint in his brown eyes.

"But I thought you could only have one apprentice?" Will said thoughtfully.

"That's true," she smirked, "But since I was a girl I wasn't technically a ranger apprentice. They didnt allow it."

"They only made her one after she 'proved herself'." Gilan rolled his eyes.

"Even now, they're still not all to happy with me," she added. "But even they have to admit, I'm good at what I do."

The three boys nodded. That she was.

"Well I'm for sleep," Gilan announced, "We're on a war footing these days so we'll set watches. Will, your first, then Horace, then me and Maia. Night!"

Wil and Horace exchanged a glance as the two older Rangers laid down beside one another.

Will couldn't help but notice the close proximity in which the two other rangers slept. Gilan slept on his back one arm cushioning his head, the other strewn over his chest.

Maia slept on her side, not a foot away from Gil.

As he turned to wake Horace a sigh broke out of Gilan as he turned onto his side, his arm falling over Maia who sighed, rolling her shoulder, and leaning into him slight in her slumber.

Will woke Horace with an amused grin.

"Do you think they..." Horace trailed off as a yawn inturrupted his speech.

"I don't know," he told the other boy with an amused grin.

As Horace's shift ended he noticed how the two rangers sleeping position had changed once again. Maia was curled up on herself, Gilan's head on her shoulder and his arms circled around her. If he'd been a girl he might have thought it cute, but he wasnt. He was a knight's apprentice and it simply wasnt proper. They weren't even courting!

"Sir?" He asked, "sir?" And then he remebered, "Gilan?"

The ranger's eye opened, immediately picking up the knight apprentice's voice.

"Gilan?"

"Yes, I'm up, got it," then he realized how he was curled around Maia's sleeping form. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks.

He shook his head, hair falling in his face and extracted his arms from around her. "Go to sleep, Horace."

The boy laid down with barely concealed laughter.

Gilan stood watch that night with drifting focus as his eyes kept coming back to the dark-haired girl beside him. She was snoring softly, something he'd often found laughable. He sighed and turned back to the dark sleeping forest.

Shook her awake gently, her emerald green eyes snapping open. Then she groaned, "My watch already? "

He nodded, "Not enough beauty sleep?"

She snorted, "I don't need beauty sleep, Gil."

He knew for a fact she was joking as the light in her eye was twinkling with humor and that stupid smirk was on her face once again. "Just don't fall asleep on watch."

She shot him a glare, "As if, Gil."

He laughed, "G'night Mai."

"See you in the morning," she smiled softly.

They were on the road again before the sun had risen. The clouds had cleared, A fresh southern wind crisp and cold blew them away. Trees were gnarled and stunted, sickly as the forest was replaced by windblown scrub.

The wind blew constantly on this part of the land. Cold and hard it only became more so as they entered Celtica.

In the evening Gilan continued with Horace's instruction.

"Timing is the essence of the whole thing," he said, "see how you're parrying with your arm locked and rigid?"

Sure enough the boys arm was tight as a bowstring. "But I have to be ready to stop your stroke," he explained.

"Take a swing at me," Gilan told him. Horace did so. "Look... see how I'm doing it?" He asked. "As your stroke is coming my hand and arm are relaxed. Then just before your sword reached the spot where I want to stop it, I make a small counter swing, see?"

He demonstrated, using his hand and wrist to swing the blade in a small arc. "My grip tightens at the last moment, and the greater part of the energy of your swing is absorbed by the movement of my own blade."

Horace seemed doubtful as he nodded. "But what if I mistime it?"

She shook her head at the smile that spread widely across Gilan's face. "Well, in that case, I'll probably just lop your head off your shoulders." She stopped as Gilan paused at Horace disappointed frown.

"The idea is not to mistime it," she added gently, patting his shoulder as she passed.

"But..." the boy began drawing her attention back.

"And the way to develop your timing is?" Gilan interrupted. Horace nodded wearily.

"I know. I know. Practice."

Gilan beamed at the boy. "That's right. So, ready? One and two and three and four, that's better, and three and four... No! No! Just a small movement of the wrist... and one and two..."

The ring of steel echoed through the campsite.

She noticed the slight interest Will had in the swordplay as he sat at the side and decided he should be doing something. Practicing some sort of skill.

The boy watched her with a raised eyebrow as she gathered up the fallen pine cones. Having gathered a good size pile she smirked. "Get ready,"

He drew his bow having a good idea of what this practice would be. He had a feeling this was more to pass the time than to really develop a certain skill, but he was looking forward to it all the same.

She threw the pine cone up in the air a few feet to her left.

Will let the arrow fly, piercing the cone in mid air.

"Haha!" She laughed, clapping her hands together with glee, "You're pretty good!"


	4. Chapter 4

_~"Haha!" She laughed, clapping her hands together with glee, "You're pretty good!"~_

Gilan noticed Will seemed a little too relaxed shooting arrows at pinecones with Maia.

He was sitting running a stone down the edge of his sword after a practice session with Horace when he glanced quizzically at the apprentice ranger who was now shooting arrows at a non-moving target. Maia having left him only moments ago.

Her sudden breath on his neck did nothing for his concentration. "I know that look, Gil," she breathed, "what's going on in that pretty little head, hmm?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

"Has Halt shown you the double knife sword defense yet?" He asked suddenly hopping to his feet and shooting a half hearted glare at the smirking girl.

"The double knife... what?" He asked uncertainly. A smile grew on her face as Gilan sighed.

"Sword defense. Damn! I should have realized there'd be more for us to do. Serves us right for taking two apprentices along," he sighed with another half hearted glare. She hopped to her feet lightly, motioning for Will to follow. He did, however, puzzled.

The three walked to the small clearing where he and Horace had been practicing earlier. Horace still there, was making shadow lunges and cuts at an invisible foe.

"Right, Horace," Gilan called, "Take a break."

Gratefully, Horace complied lowering his sword and sinking onto the trunk of a fallen tree.

"I think I'm getting the feel of it," he said. Gilan nodded approvingly.

"Good for you," she smiled.

"Another three or four years and you might just have it mastered, " Gilan said cheerfully. Horace's face dropped at the prospect of the long years ahead stretched out before him.

"Look on the bright side, Horace," Gilan said. "By that time, there'd be less than a handful of swordsman in the kingdom who could best you in a duel."

Horace's face brightened somewhat then sagged once more as Maia added: "The trick is knowing who those handful are... be mighty uncomfortable if you accidentally challenged one of them and then found out, wouldn't it?"

Gilan then turned to the boy with a small grin. "Now, Will, let's see those knives of yours."

Horace found it quite amusing (and somewhat alarming) how she perked up at just the mere mention of knives.

"Both of them?"

The two older ranger looked to eachother rolling their eyes to heaven. The expression was remarkably like the one Halt used after Will had asked one too many questions.

"Sorry," the apprentice mumbled unsheathing his knives and holding them out to the Rangers.

Gilan didn't take one, merely examined the edges and checked for the fine layer of rust-proof oil. Maia on the other hand, took one, examining it closely before tossing it in the air and catching it with practised ease.

"Right," she said, handing it back at the annoyed look from Gilan.

"Saxe knife goes in your right hand, because that's the one you block a sword cut-"

Will interrupted with a frown, "Why would I need to block a sword cut?"

Maia raised an amused eyebrow as Gilan rapped him none too gently on the top of his head. "Well, perhaps to stop it from splitting your skull might be a good reason."

"But Halt says rangers don't fight at close quarters," Will protested.

Maia shrugged as Gilan nodded in agreement. "It's certainly not our role. But, if the occasion arises when we have to, it's a good idea to know how to go about it."

"You don't think a little knife like that is going to stop a proper sword do you?" Horace interrupted a tad scornfully.

Gilan raised an eyebrow looking to the boy.

"Take a closer look at that 'little knife' before you sound so certain," Maia regarded him calmly though Gilan could see the insult behind it. She had a strange affection for knives. All sorts.

"It's heavy," he said finally after swinging the knife experimentally.

"And hard. Very, very hard," Gilan told him. "Ranger knives are made by craftsmen who've perfected the art of hardening steel to an amazing degree."

"You'd blunt your sword edge against that, and barely leave a nick on it," Maia added with a smirk.

"Even so, you've been teaching me the idea of movement and leverage all week." Horace said. "There's a lot less leverage in a short blade like this."

"That's true," Gilan confirmed. "So we have to find another source of leverage, don't we?"

"And that's the shorter knife. The throwing knife." Maia smirked triumphantly.

"I don't get it." Horace admitted, the frown deepening between his eyebrows.

She noticed Will's knowing look and nudged Gilan with a smirk.

"Well, perhaps Will could explain it for you?" Gilan said pleasantly. Maia smiled sweetly.

Will hesitated, "Well... it's the... ah... um... the two knife defense," he stammered. There was a long pause and neither of the rangers said a word. "Isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" Gilan replied, "Now would you like to demonstrate?"

Maia took over leaving Will no time to answer, "We thought not. So, please, allow me."

She took Will's saxe knife and withdrew her own throwing knife from its sheath. She then gestured to Horace's sword with the smaller knife.

"Right then," Gilan said, businesses again, "Pick up your sticker.

Horace did so doubtfully. Gilan gestured for him to join Maia who was smiling evilly twirling the knives in her hands. As she took a steady stance Horace did the same, however reluctantly.

"Try an overhand cut," Gilan suggested crossing his arms over his chest.

"But..." Horace gestured unhappily to Maia and her set of daggers.

"Just do the overhand cut. Dammit!" She snapped angrily.

"When will you two learn?" Gilan sighed.

"But she-"

"We know what were doing. Get on with it!"

He actually shouted the last words at Horace who galvanized into action. His sword swung in a murderous overhand cut at Maia's head.

A ringing clash of steel and the blade stopped dead in the air. Maia had crossed the two ranger knives in front of it, the throwing knife supporting the saxe knife blade, and blocked the cut easily. Horace stepped back, surprised.

"See?" Gilan said, shaking his head at the smug satisfaction on Maia's face. "The smaller knife provides the support, or the extra leverage, for the bigger weapon." He addressed these remarks mainly to Will who looked on with great interest.

"Right," Maia stated, "Upper hand cut, please."

Horace took a breath obviously still not pleased he was 'attacking' Maia. He swung. Maia locked the two blades once more, blocking the stroke.

She glanced at Will, who nodded with a small smile.

"Sidecut," Gilan ordered gently.

Horace swung again. Again the sword was stopped cold.

"Getting the idea," the two rangers asked in unison glancing to each other with an amused smirk.

"Yes... what about a straight thrust?"

Gilan nodded approvingly. "Good question. That's a little different." He turned back to Horace. "Incidentally, if your ever facing a man using two knives, thrusting is your safest and most effective form of attack. Now, thrust, please."

Horace lunged with the point of his sword. His right foot lead the way in a high-stepping stamp to deliver extra momentum. This time, Maia used only the saxe knife to deflect the blade, sending it gliding past her body with a slithering of steel.

"We can't stop this one," she explained, "so we simply deflect it."

"On the positive side," Gilan added, "there's less force behind a thrust, so we can just use the saxe knife."

Horace had stumbled forward, meeting no resistance to the thrust deflected by the blade.

Instantly, Maia's left hand was gripping a handful of his shirt and had pulled him closer, until their shoulders were almsot touching. It happened so quickly. So calmly. Horace's eyes widened in surprise. "And this is where a short blade becomes ever so handy indeed." Maia pointed out, miming an under arm thrust into Horace's exposed side.

"And of course, if you don't want to kill him-"

"-or if he's wearing a mail shirt," Gilan added.

"-you can always use the saxe blade to cripple him." She mimed a short swing to the back of Horace's knee. The blade was only a few inches from his leg.

Horace gulped.

"Or remember," Gilan added cheerfully, "that left hand, holding his collar, also has a rather nasty, rather sharp stabbing blade attached to it." Maia waggled the short broad bladed throwing knife to being their attention.

"A quick thrust up under the jaw and its good night swords-man," Maia said.

Will shook his head in admiration, "That's amazing!" He breathed, "I've never seen anything like it."

Maia released Horace's shirt. The boy stepped back quickly... before any more demonstrations of his vulnerability might be made.

"We don't make a lot of noise about it," she admitted brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"It's preferable to run into a swordsman who doesn't know the dangers of the double knife defense," Gilan said before glancing apologetically at Horace. "Naturally it's taught at the kingdoms Battleschool," he added, "but it's a second year subject. Sir Rodney would have shown you next year."

Will stepped forward onto the practice ground. "Can I try it?" She smiled at his eagerness.

"Of course," she said laughing and handing him his saxe blade.

"You two may as well practice together in the evenings from now on, but not with real weapons. Cut some practice sticks to use." Gilan said.

Horace nodded at the wisdom. "That"s right, Will. After all your just starting to learn this and I wouldn't want to hurt you." He paused a grin over coming his features, "Well not too badly anyway."

"That's one reason, of course, but we also don't have time for you to be resharpening your sword every night," Gilan smiled glancing meaningfully down at Horace's blade.

She couldnt help but laugh as the apprentice left out a low moan. There were two deep nicks in the edge of his blade. They were obviously from the over and upper hand cuts that Maia had blocked. She flashed a smile.

One look from Gil told the young apprentice he'd spend at least an hour honing and sharpening the blade to get rid of them.

He looked questioningly to the saxe knife. No doubt hoping for the same result.

Maia shook her head cheerfully as Will handed him the blade. "Not a mark," she grinned

"Remember I told you that ranger knives are specially made," Gil grinned.

Horace grumbled to himself as he rummaged about for his sharpening steel. He sat down on the handpicked sand and began to draw it along the edge.

Maia smirked, stripping off her second layer so she wore only her loose fitting green tunic and brown belt and breeches... not to mention her favorite boots.

"Maia... Gilan?" Will asked. They looked to him. "I've been thinking..."

"Oh dear," she smiled.

Gilan shook his head in mock despair, "Always a problem... And what, pray tell, have you been thinking?"

"Well," the boy began slowly, "this double knife buisness is all well and good." He snuck a look at a serious looking Maia. "...but wouldn't it be better to shoot the swordsman before he got to close quarters?"

"Well...yes," Maia shrugged.

"It certainly would," Gilan agreed patiently, "But what if you were about to do that and your bowstring broke?"

"I could run and hide," Will suggested.

Maia pressed him, "What if there were nowhere to run? You're trapped against a sheer cliff. Nowhere to go, your bowstring just broke, and a swordsman is coming at you. What then?"

Will shook his head, "I suppose then I have to fight," he admitted however reluctantly.

"Exactly," Gilan agreed. "We avoid close combat wherever possible. But if the time comes when there's no othe choice, it's a good idea to be prepared, isn't it?"

"I guess," Will said.

Then Horace chimed in, "What about an axman?"

Both Gilan and Maia looked nonplussed for a moment. "An axman?"

"Yes," Horace continued, warming up to his theme, "What about if your facing an enemy with a battle ax? Do your knives work then?"

Gilan looked to Maia hesitantly. "I wouldn't advise anyone to face a battle ax with just two knives," she began carefully.

"So what should I do?" Will asked. Gilan shigted his glare from one boy to the other. He had the feeling they were being set up.

"Shoot him," he said.

Will grinned, "Can't my bowstring is broken."

"Then run and hide," Gilan said through gritted teeth.

"But theres a cliff," Horace pointed out. Gilan glared at Maia. She shrugged as Horace continued, "A sheer drop behind him and an angry axman coming at him."

"What do I do?" Will prompted.

"Throw a dagger in his eye," Maia deadpanned, "And don't you dare miss."

"What if I do?" Will asked.

Maia glared.

Gilan took a deep breath and looked them in the eye, one after the other. "Jump off the cliff. It'll be less messy that way."

The boys gasped as Gilan stepped out of the clearing back to the camp. Maia sighed, clapping Will on the shoulder as she went after him.


	5. Chapter 5

_~The boys gasped as Gilan stepped out of the clearing back to the camp. Maia sighed, clapping Will on the shoulder as she went after him.~_

"Gil?" She asked, entering the camp.

"Hmm?" He asked, popping his shaggy brown head of hair up as be rummaged about.

She quirked an eyebrow,"What are you-"

"Nevermind that, care to help with the horses? I dare say they've earned it." He smiled.

She sighed, smiling, "Alright."

Blaze was Gilan's horse, a beautiful half-breed horse bred for stamina. She was longer and leaner than most ranger horse. She had a thick slightly shaggy brown coat and a long light brown mane marking her as a ranger's horse. White socks adorned three out of her four legs. She was mild-manner and good-natured, a very easy going animal.

Fax on the other hand was Maia's, a ranger horse bred for speed. He was large as ranger horses went; taller even than Blaze. He had dark brown eyes and a coat the color of the midnight sky, dark and shining. His mane was even darker than his coat. He had a bit of an attitude, was stubborn and willful, and very protective of his rider as well as Blaze.

The horses, much like their masters, were inseparable. Tug, Will's horse, short and shaggy and smaller stood next to the pair his light coat and yellowish mane a stark contrast against Fax dark hair.

Kicker was Horace's. He was significantly bigger than the Rangers' horses. He was battle horse in every sense of the word. Big, strong, and obviously fast, though nowhere near as well trained as the rangers horse, who were taught from an absurdly early age to do more than any battle horse would ever learn. They were taught to aide their masters in any way possible, namely the detection of nearby persons and extraction from trouble.

The horses sighed in contentment at the well-deserved attention. The two human rangers working to rub down their coats, brush out their manes, simply clean them up.

Maia and Gilan were used to each others company. After years of learning and working together they had to be. And with that long time companionship came that sense of companionable silence in which the pair had to speak no words to fill the air.

They simply worked.

The next day they packed up early and continued on- they'd reach the border soon.

Maia's eyebrow furrowed. Fax and Blaze slowing their trot to halt as their masters took in the scene.

"Where the devil is everyone? Gilan asked looking around the deserted border post.

It was strangely empty. There should have been at least a garrison of half a dozen men at even a small outpost such as this one.

There was a smaller guardhouse by the side of the road, just large enough to shelter two, perhaps three men. A larger house was settled further back, but both were seemingly abandoned.

Like most structures in Celtica, the building were built of the gray sintered stone found in the area, flat river stones that were split length wise. The roofing was of the same material as wood was scare in Celtica, even for heating coal of peat was used whenever possible and any and all timber was need for shorting up tunnels Celtica's mines.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The only sound being that of the wind sweeping across the ground and through the hills.

"Perhaps they're between shifts?" Will suggested, his voice seeming louder than it was in the silence of the area.

Maia shook her head in time with Gilan. "Can't be. It's a border post. It should be garrisons at all times."

Sharing a look the two rangers dismounted, Maia giving Fax a reassuring pat as the big animal gave her a disapproving look. He preferred having his mistress in the saddle where he could take her away from danger at a moment's notice.

Gilan motioned for the apprentices to stay put.

"Could they have been attacked and driven off?" Horace questioned, his mindset seeming to lean towards fighting.

Gilan shrugged, noticing Maia's lack of response as she pushed open the door to the guardhouse. "Maybe, but there doesn't seem to be any sign of fighting."

Maria slipped inside with narrowed eyes, the single-doomed building was minimally furnished, the only constructs being that of the table and few benches.

There was nothing to give any clue as to where the former occupants had gone.

"The Celts may have simply stopped manning it," she said thoughtfully, turning to Gilan, who was leaning again the doorway with furrowed eyebrows.

He nodded. "Good thought. There's been truce between Araluen and Celtica for over thirty years." He pushed himself off the door way and motioned towards the larger garrison house. "Maybe we'll find something down there."

Two boys dismounted as Maria followed after Gilan. Horace tethered his horse to the fence, Kicker was not trained to stay as the rangers' horses were, Tug, Fax, and Blake's reins laying slack as Will, Maia, and Gilan traveled on.

Maia looked around carefully. The stone building was small, neat, clean and most noticeably deserted. Here at least, there were a few clues as to when they left. And in a hurry too. Plates still laid on a table, bits of dried-out food still remained. The closet door hung open, clothing was scattered across the floor of the dormitory- their owners having hurriedly crammed as many articles of clothing as they could in their packs before picking up and leaving, or so she assumed. The bunks seemed to be lacking a few blankets as well...

"They didn't leave recently," Gilan noted, inspecting the tip of a finger he had run along the edge of the dining room table with pursed lips.

"How can you tell?" Horace asked, recovering from knocking his head on the low door sill.

She smirked over at him knowingly, watching him flush from embarrassment at under her gaze. The boy was tall for his age. He had about a foot on her already. Though, that wasn't saying much. Even Will had about and inch over her. Gilan was just a bit taller than Horace, though he was slimmer, Horace being broader at the shoulder than the elder swordsman.

"Celts are neat," Gilan said, sweeping an arm around the room. "This dust must have settled since they left."

Maia was bent over slightly, examining the layers of dust on the dining table in front of Gilan. She stood up as he finished. "I'd say they've been gone for at least a month."

"Maybe, it's like you said," Will commented, coming down then steps from the command center. "Maybe they decided they didn't need to keep this post manned anymore."

Maia didn't look convinced. She looked over to Gilan for his opinion, though he didn't look any more convinced than she. "That wouldn't explain why they left in a hurry. Look at all of this -the food on the table, the open closets, the clothes scattered on the floor. When people close down a post like this, they clean up and take their belongings with them. Particularly Celts. As I said, they're very orderly."

Maria headed outside, Gilan by her side. Their eyes swept the landscape of the deserted countryside, as if hoping to find some clue to this mystery. There was nothing visible except their horses, however, idly chewing at the short grass by the road side.

"Do you remember the name of the nearest village, Gil'?" She questioned her eyes fixed in one direction.

"Pordellath," he told her, "It's a little out of our way, but perhaps we can find out what's been going on around here."

* * *

Pordellath was really only five kilometers away, but because of the steep landscape the path zigged and zagged all around the hillsides. As a result, they had almost reached the the little town before it came into sight.

It was actually quite late in the day and the group hadn't stopped for their noon time meal at first because of their haste to reach the border and then because they had pressed on to Pordellath. Neither Maria nor Gilan were feeling the effects, both having gone much longer amount of time on even less food, but the two apprentices were thinking fondly of a hot meal at a local inn accompanied by a cold drink.

It was because of this preoccupation that Will hadn't noticed the increasingly aggravated look on Maria face as her eyes narrowed in response to whatever it was she had noticed. If he hadn't been other wise engaged, be wouldn't have been so surprised when Gilan reigned in as the village came into sight around the shoulder of the hill.

"What the hell is going on here?" He asked, "Look at that!

Will and Horace looked, their faces becoming increasingly confused as they did. For the life of them, they couldn't see anything that might have bothered the young ranger.

"I don't see anything," Will admitted.

"Exactly," Maia commented calmly, still facing village.

Gilan had exclaimed the word at the same moment as his partner, turning to face the apprentice. "Nothing! No smoke from the chimneys. No people in the streets. It looks as empty as the border post!"

"We should get a closer look," Maia suggested, nudging Fax with her knees. The horse broke out into a canter on the rocky road, Blaze filing in behind. They strung out in a line, clattering down the road before coming to a halt in the village square.

It wasn't a fancy village. Small, simple, there wasn't much to it besides the main road they'd entered from which was lined with houses and shops on either side that widened into a small square at the end. The largest structure in the town was that of the hereditary chief in the center of the square, proclaiming his authority over the villagers.

That was when there were actually villagers. At this time, there was no chief, no villagers. There was only the faint sound of the wind and the dying echoes of the horses hooves on the stone.

"Hello!" Gilan shouted, his voice carrying through the village, bouncing off walls and echoing down the narrow street.

Soon enough it was tailing away into silence.

The horses shifted nervously, as the silence settled in once more.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that?" Will suggested almost hesitantly.

Maia caught Gilan's gaze as he shifted to look at the ranger apprentice, a trace of his normal good humor returning as he sensed the reason for Will's discomfort.

"Why's that?"

"Well," Will began, glancing around the deserted market square with unease, "If somebody has taken away the people here, maybe we don't want them to know that we've arrived."

"Bit late for that," Maia smirked, but not unkindly at the boy. In fact it was almost, fondly.

"I'll say," Gilan agreed. "We came galloping in here like the King's cavalry, and we've been traveling the road completely open."

"If anybody was out looking for us," Maria said, finishing Gilan's train of thought. "They would have already seen us."

"I suppose so," Will replied doubtful.

"Let's take a look around," Gilan said, noticing Horace had edged his horse up to one of the houses and was peering in under the low window, trying to see inside. The ranger dismounted swiftly, his feet hitting the ground with barely a sound.

The knights apprentice was not overly keen on following his example. "What if this is some kind of plague or something?"

"A plague?" The two rangers asked in unison.

The boy swallowed nervously. "Yes. I mean, I've heard of this sort of thing happening years and years ago; whole towns would be wiped out by a plague that would sweep in and just... sort of... kill people where they stood." He edged his horse away from the building g as he spoke.

"So this plaugue could just come out of thin air?" Gilan asked calmly his voice giving nothing away.

Horace nodded hastily. "Nobody really knows how they spread. I've heard that its the night air that carries plague. Of the wind, sometimes. But however it travels, it strikes so fast, there's no escape. It simply kills you where you stand."

By this point, Maia was highly amused by the boys large conclusion and decided to join in on Gilan's ploy. "Every man, woman, and child in its path?"

Again, Horace nodded frantically. His hair bobbing up and down with his head.

"And then," Maia began, Gilan picking up her thought as of they ran on the same wavelength which, perhaps, they did. "It just dissolves their dead bodies away into thin air?"

"That's right!" Horace began before fully realizing what it was the Ranger had said. He looked around and upon seeing no dead bodies of people struck dead where they stood, stopped. "Oh. Well, maybe its a new strain of plague. Maybe it does sort of dissolve the bodies."

Will noticed both rangers adopt a skeptical look, their heads tilting to opposite sides.

"Or maybe there were one or two people who were immune, and they buried everyone?" Horace suggested weakly.

"And where are they now?" Maia asked with raised eyebrows.

"Maybe they were so sad they couldn't bear to live here anymore," Horace said trying to keep the theory alive.

Gilan shook his head. "Horace, whatever drove people away from here it wasn't the plague."

Maia glanced up at the darkening sky. "Its getting late, we'll need to find a place to stay the night after searching around a bit."

Gilan nodded in agreement, eyes cast to the sky.

"Here?" Will asked, his voice cracking with nerves as he spoke. "In the village?"

Gilan nodded, "Unless you want to camp out on the hills. There's precious little shelter and it usually rains at night in these parts. Personally, I'd rather spend the night under a roof- even a deserted one."

"But..."

"I'm sure Tug would rather under cover than in the rain as well," Maia added gently.

The boy nodded in defeat, swinging down from the saddle.

**A/N: Sorry for the ridiculous delay- I've got a buttload of school work and other activities and I just don't have much time for recreational writing. I find it miss it!**


	6. Chapter 6

Pordellath held no answers to their questions. The four travellers went through the village, finding the same signs of hasty departure as had been found at the border post. In some places, evidence of haphazard packing was found, but in most places the former occupants' possessions were still in place. Everything spoke of the former inhabitants departing in a hurry, taking what could be carried on their backs and little else. Tools, clothes, furniture, personal belongings, and pretty, but useless valuables were left behind. However, the small group could find no clue as to where the people of Pordellath had fled to. Or why.

As the day came to a close and the darkness rose, their search came to an end. They returned to the chief's former residence where they unsaddled their horses, rubbing them down in the shelter of the small beaten porch at the front of the building.

The two apprentices spent an uneasy night in the house, nervously looking about as if expecting barbarians to swoop down on them from above. For their part however, Maia and Gilan were relatively comfortable, if somewhat ill at ease with the abundance of unanswered questions, not that they let the apprentices see that.

Gilan took the first watch, Maia rolling herself up in her cloak and curling up beside him where she instantly drifted off to sleep. Will wished it was that easy.

The silence settled in around him as the other drifted off to sleep, their breathing adding to the array of miscellaneous noises that filled the night air- door creaking, floorboards groaning, and the structures almost shaking with every gust of wind outside, as well as the occasional item outside banging against the ground with a bang and a clatter that brought him to full attention as it is carried off by the wind.

Will woke to relieve himself some hours into the night when the moon was high above the village casting eerie pool of shadows between the houses that seemed to move slightly, in and out of focus. The clouds were move in in by then. He guessed it begin to rain about midnight.

He'd be asleep then.

The rain moved in a little after midnight, just as Gilan had predicted, starting with a few drops that grew into a steady downpour that woke Maia from her sleep.

She had become a light sleeper in her year as a Ranger. She'd be getting little to no sleep as the rain poured down. It wasn't that it was unnerving, but rather that the noise set off an instinctive alarm that something was near. In fact, she found the splash splash of the raining hitting the newly forming puddles quite soothing.

She took Horace's place in the rotation, sending Will back to sleep with a gentle smile and a wink.

Around three the rain let up some and a little after that she woke Horace to take his watch so she could sneak another couple hours of sleep.

As she expected, they were on the road early the next morning, the rain coming to a stop just before dawn. Maia and Gilan spoke quickly over their meager breakfast of hard bread and dried fruit, quickly deciding to push on in the direction of Gwyntaleth- the first large town on their route- in hopes of finding some answers to the mysteries they encountered so far.

They rode out of the town at a comfortable pace, taking their time on the uneven pathway, but breaking out into a canter as they reached the main road. Twenty minutes at that pace and another twenty at a walk, they continued onward, the miles passing underway.

Maia whistled as they went, a cheery looping tune that continued on and on as they continued their trek. Will found himself nodding along at points, and even caught Gilan humming the tune alongside her at one point before promptly shaking his head and telling her to can it, to which she smirked and switched to a different, catchier, but more annoying tune.

By midday she had switched to humming and had found yet another tune. This one Gilan hummed along with. It was around this time they stopped for a quick meal before setting back on the road.

It was strange though, this was the principal mining area of Celtica. They had passed at least a dozen mines of either coal or iron, and yet, they had yet to see another living person. It was as if the entire population had simply vanished.

"They may have deserted their border post, and even their villages," Golan muttered upon passing one of these such mines. "But I've never yet met a Celt who would desert a mine while there was an ounce of metal still to be torn from it."

Gwyntaleth was beginning to come into sight about midafternoon. They came over a crest, and looking down into the valley dropping away from them the neat rows of stone roofs that formed Gwyntaleth could be seen. The small spire of the temple marked the center of the town where the Celtican people would go to worship their Gods of Fire and Iron and whatever else- neither Ranger was very well-versed in the Celts religion. They were more interested in the large tower forming what was the main defensive position for the town.

They were much too far away to see if there was any movement of people in the streets, but just as it had been in Pordellath and the border post, there was no sign of smoking chimneys.

Though more significantly, there was no noise.

"Noise?" Horace asked, "What kind of noise?"

"Banging, hammering, clanking," Maria answered briefly, allowing Gilan to clarify.

"The Celts don't just mine iron ore. They work in the iron as well. With the breeze blowing from the southwest as it is, we should be able to hear the forges at work, even at this distance."

"Well, let's go see then," Will said, beginning to nudge Tug forward.

Maia held up a hand to restrain him. "We thought we might go on ahead alone." She said slowly, her eyes only leaving the path for a moment.

"Alone?" Will questioned.

Gilan nodded. "You noted yesterday that we were making ourselves pretty obvious when we rode into Pordellath, and you were right. Perhaps it's time we became a little more circumspect. Something is going on and I'd like to know what it is."

Will had to agree that it made sense. After all, Gilan and Maria were a team. They were used to working together as a unit. They were also two of the best unseen movers in the Ranger Corps, and rangers were the best in the kingdom.

"Set up camp here," Gilan said, motioning for them to fall back from the crest they were perched on and down to the other side where the gully formed a perfect spot for campsite, sheltered and out of the wind.

"No fires, boys," Maria told them. "We'll have to stay with cold rations until we know what's going on. We should be back some time after dark."

Gilan nodded his agreement at her and then at the boys. With that the two wheeled their horses around trotted back over the crest and down into the gully towards Gwyntaleth.

Maia and Gilan really hadn't gone far before they caught sight of two raggedy looking figures creeping through the rocky slope. The pair exchanged one glance before silently dismounting, their feet hitting the ground with nothing but a muted crunch. The two rangers were sorely unimpressed by the pair. Besides being utterly oblivious to anything and everything around them, the bandits were dirty, unkempt and heavily beared. They were dressed in threadbare and tattered mismatched articles of clothing while also possessing of a few obviously new and quite costly items.

The taller of the pair wore a rich looking satin vest, which at one time was probably extremely valuable... but now it was laden with dirt. The other was sporting a scarlet colored hat with a sad looking feather in it. He was also carrying a wooden club with iron spikes in a dirty haphazardly bandaged hand, the other man carried a longsword, though it was jagged and nicked along the edges.

Maia and Gilan looked to each other, deciding their initial suspicions were correct. Thieves.

They were headed towards the gully where they'd left the two apprentices. That was when they began to hear it- wood clashing against wood. Heavy breathing... were the boys sparring? Here?

Gilan sighed and glanced at Maia, who looked slightly annoyed by this point. The bandits had also picked up on the sounds and were attempting to sneak up on the pair.

Will's horse whinnied.

He didn't notice.

Again.

Not a sound of recognition from either of the boys.


	7. Chapter 7

This, I'm sorry to say, is not a chapter, but a bit of news.

Bad News.

I had the next few chapters of this story written up and ready for publishing, however, my computer, my dear sweet Microsoft Lenovo, Decklin, caught a bit of a cold, or well, virus and after several cleaning software and debugging cleanses, the virus stuck around. So, my wonderful mother took Deckin to the Microsoft store in order to get him well again. The thing was, these updated stories were not yet backed up on my Google drive, so, they are, as of now, dead and gone. Non-retrievable.

They will have to be rewritten and re-edited and then published.

I'm sorry for all of you that I've kept waiting.

I'll will try to update, but, as saddening as it is, Schoolwork comes first.

Have a great holiday to matter what you're celebrating!

Lots of Love,

~Max


	8. Chapter 8

_~Will's horse whinnied. He didn't notice. Again. Not a sound of recognition from either of the boys.~_

Maia sighed wearily as they watched Will shake his head. "Let's try it again," he said.

"Let's not, little boys. Let's put down our nasty sharp sticks and stand very still, shall us?" Maia winced at the horrific grammar noticing the surprise on the boys' faces as they whirled around to face the intruders.

"Shall we let them handle this?" she asked Gilan lowly.

He nodded. "It'll teach them a lesson."

"It certainly will. I can't believe they thought sparring alone in unknown territory was a good idea." She paused, "I forget they're apprentices sometimes… so young."

"We're not exactly ancient, Maia," Gilan grinned.

She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled slightly, "You know what I mean."

"Come one now, you boys. Sharp sticks are danger-orius for the likes of you, the shorter of the scavengers rasped, letting out a guttural laugh."

"They're grammar really is horrible. It's killing me, Gil'."

The other ranger laughed quietly, "I doubt they care." They fell into silence as they watched the scene carefully, ready to step in if need be. They watched as Will's hand fell to his side where his saxe knife would usually be sheathed. However, the knife, his bow, and quiver were all sitting on the far side of camp, way out of reach.

Horace began pulled Will backward, whispering something.

"Yes Will, you back away. You stay away from that nasty little bow I see over there. We don't hold no truck with bow, do us, Carney," the shorter one with eh club laughed.

"That we don't, Bart, that we don't," Carney said to his partner before turning back to the boys. "Didn't we tell you to drop those sticks?" His voice was higher, and violent, the threat very real. Maia shifted as the two men began to advance across the clearing.

She needn't have worried so much. Horace jerked Will to the side, sending him sprawling to the ground out of the way. Harce himself spun around, grabbing up his sword, flicking off the scabbard in one smooth motion. That action alone should have alerted the men to his obvious skill with the blade, but neither seemed very bright. They simply saw a boy. A large boy with a man's sword.

"Oh, dear," Carney mocked, "Have we got our Daddy's sword with us?"

Horace very calmly said, "I'll give you one chance to turn around and leave now."

Bart and Carney exchanged mock looks of fear. "Oh dear, Bart," Carney began, "It's out one chance. What'll us do?"

Bart replied, "Oh dear, let's run away!"

As the two men began to advance Horace watched them, practice stick in his left hand, sword in his right. Gilan watched the boy's form, how he balanced on the balls of his feet, tensing as they come closer, Carney with a rusty edged sword and Bart with the spiked cudgel on his shoulder.

Maia kept an eye on Will, watching as he scrambled to his feet and moved for his weapons. Carney moved to cut him off, but was intercepted by Horace's attack.

The young warrior darted forward, sword flashing in an overhead cut directed at Carney. The thief was startled by the sheer speed of the move. He barely managed to bring his sword up in a clumsy parry. Unprepared for the force behind Horace's move Carney stumbled backward, falling into the dust.

Bart, seeing his companion's trouble stepped forward in that moment and swung the heavy club at Horace's unprotected left side. Bart obviously expected Horace to step back away from the blow, but Horace instead stepped forward, flicking the practice sword flicked up and out deflecting the cudgel. Gilan grinned, "Good boy," he muttered. Bart let out a deep "woof" in surprise, the impact jarring his arm from his wrist to his shoulder. The cudgel hit the ground with a dull thud.

Horace, however wasn't finished. He lunged forward, he and Bart standing shoulder to shoulder. Too close for the use of his blade, Horace instead swung his right fist, hammering the heavy brass pommel into Bart's skull. The bandit collapsed to his knees, eyes glazing over as he swayed back and forth, only semi-conscious.

Carney had backpedaled as fast as he could through the sand and regained his footing. He stood looking at the young warrior in puzzlement and anger. Thin lips curved into a snarl as he gripped the sword tightly and advanced once more on the boy. Something Horace's eyes made Carney hesitate as he stood waiting for the bandit's next move. Anger overcame whatever hesitation had gripped him, charging forward anyway.

Will, by this time, had darted around camp, grabbing up his bow and quiver, hastily stepping his right foot through the recurve, bracing the bow against his left as he strung it up. Selecting an arrow quickly, he nocked it.

Maia and Gilan had already moved from the underbrush and were standing just a few feet behind the ranger apprentice. They exchanged one look from where they stood, Gilan leaning nonchalantly against his longbow and Maia leaning on her left leg, arms crossed over her chest.

"Don't shoot him," Gilan said, "I'd rather like to see this."

Maia let out a small breath in the place of a laugh as she set eyes on Will's surprised expression. "Gilan! Maia!"

The two rangers made a sign for silence, their eyes flitting to Horace and Carney.

"Just let him go," Gilan said softly, "He'll be fine as long as we don't distract him."

"But," Will began desperately looking to his friend. Maia knew his worries… Carney was, after all a full grown man and a very very angry one at that.

"Horace will handle him," Maia interrupted trying to put the boy at ease.

"He really is very good, you know," Gilan added, "A natural if I ever saw one. That bit with the practice stick and the hilt strike was sheer poetry. Lovely improvisation."

Will nodded unsurely, catching Maia's small smile as she watched Gilan's face light up. He loved everything about swordplay, he was fascinated by it. She shook her head, willing herself to look away from his handsome face. Will briefly wondered if that look in her eyes as she looked at the swordsman ranger was love.

The sound of metal on metal brought him back to the fight. Carney was attacking. His strokes were sloppy, made with a blind fury. Horace gave way little by little, his own swords moving in small semi-circular actions, blocking each cut, thrust, and jab, jarring Carney's wrist and elbow with the strength of his defense.

All the while Gilan was whispering approving commentary beside Maia and Will. "Good boy!" he said. A small smile grew on Maia's lips at the pride in his voice. "See how he's letting the other fellow start proceedings? Gives him an idea of how skillful he might be. Or otherwise. My God. Horace has the timing of that defensive swing just about perfect! Look at that! And that! Terrific!"

Horace chose that moment to turn the tables. He stopped backing away. As he continued to parry Carney's blows he stood his ground, letting the bandit expend his strength like the sea breaking on a rock. Carney's strokes became noticeably slower, weaker and ragged, as Horace stood. The bandit swung again, losing his balance on the follow through. Horace's blade caught his opponent's and spun it in a circle, holding it before letting it rasp down its length until the crosspieces locked. There, they stood, eye to eyes, Carney's breathing ragged and heavy and Horace absolutely calm, totally in control.

He went on attack.


	9. Chapter 9

_~He went on attack.~_

Driving his shoulder into Carney's chest, he unlocked their blades and sent the man staggering backward. Then, he advanced, calmly, terrifyingly, he swung his sword in devastating combinations. Each flowed smoothly into the next. Carney was scrambling, desperately trying to bring his own blade in between himself and Horace's untiring blade. Horace kept at it until he simply beat the blade from Carney's grasp.

The bandit sunk to his knees, sweat pouring off of him, into his eyes as his chest heaved with exertion. He was waiting for his life to be ended with a final strike.

"Don't kill him, Horace!" Gilan called.

"We've a few questions for him," Maia finished, a definite edge to her voice.

Horace looked up, surprise evident in his features as he looked at the Rangers. He shrugged, not being the type to kill an opponent in cold blood anyways. He flicked Carney's sword aside, way out of reach and then set one boot against his shoulder, shoving him over onto his side in the dirt. There, the bandit lay, sobbing, unable to move, utterly worn out.

"Where did you two come from?" He asked indignantly, "And why didn't you give me a hand?"

Maia and Gilan exchanged one glance, saying in unison, "You didn't seem to need one."

"I think you're other friend needs some attention," Mia said almost boredly, gesturing to Bart, who was slowly rising to his feet behind Horace, shaking his head as the effects of the hilt stike wore off.

The young warrior turned and casually raised his sword and swung it to clang flat-bladed against Bart's skull.

Not even a second later Bart was face down in the sand.

"I really think you might have said something," Horace pressed.

"We would have if you were in trouble," Gilan answered. Maia had moved across the clearing to to stand over Carney, casually prodding him with her boot and looking utterly unimpressed. Gilan moved to join her. Then, he seized the man by the arm and frog-marched him across the clearing to throw him, none too gently, against the rock face at the far side. As Carney began to sag forward, Maia's saxe knife appeared at his throat with the hiss of steel on leather.

"It seems these two caught you napping?" Gilan asked Will.

Shamefaced, the boy nodded. When the comment sunk in, he looked up, eyebrows furrowed asking, "Just how long have you been there?"

"Since they arrived," Maia asked.

"We hadn't gone far when we saw them skulking through the rocks," Gilan explained. "So I left Blaze and doubled back here, trailing them. Obviously they were up to no good."

"Why didn't you say something then?" Will asked incredulously.

Gilan's eyes hardened for a moment, making it evident that he was not just their friend, but a ranger and they could learn from him. "Because you two needed a lesson. You're in dangerous territory, the population seems to have mysteriously disappeared and you stand around practicing sword craft for all the world to see and hear."

"But," stammered Will, "I thought we were supposed to practice?"

"Not when there's no one else to keep an eye on things," Gilan pointed out reasonably. "Once you start practicing like that, your attention is completely distracted. These two made enough noise to alert a deaf old granny."

"Tug even gave you a warning call," Maia said seriously, looking back, "Twice. And you missed it."

Totally crestfallen, Will said, "I did?" Gilan and Maia nodded. He held Will's gaze until he was sure the lesson had been driven home and point taken. Then, he nodded slightly, signalling the matter was closed.

"Now," Gilan said, changing the subject. "Let's find out what these two beauties know about the price of coal."

He turned back to look at Carney. He was going quite cross-eyed trying to watch the gleaming saxe knife pressed against his throat. He swallowed then, eyes moving to admire Maia's feminine form. She was looking at Will, her knife still pressed to Carney's throat and her body close to his.

Gilan noticed the darkening in the man's eyes and cleared his throat, catching Maia's attention. His look clearly told her that if she wasn't going to hurt him. Gil would.

Maia turned back to Carney, fixing him with a terrifying glare that had the man trying to back into the rock face.

"How long have you been in Celtica?" she asked.

Carney looked twice between her face and the knife pressed to his throat. "Tuh-tuh-tuh-ten or eleven days, m'lady."

She scoffed, "Don't call me 'my lady'."

"These people always try and flatter you when they realize they're in trouble," Gilan told the boys. "Now…" he turned back to Carney, "What brought you here?"

The bandit hesitated, eyes sliding away from the two rangers in such a way that they knew he was going to lie even before he said a thing. "Just… wanted to see the sights, my… sir," he amended, remembering at the last moment Maia's instructions and figuring it applied to him as well.

Gilan shook his head and sighed in exasperation. Maia glared at him.

"Look, I'd just as soon lop off your head here and now. I really doubt you have anything useful to tell us. But I'll give you one last chance. Let's have THE TRUTH!" He shouted angrily, suddenly shoulder to shoulder with Maia, his face only inches from Carney's. The sudden transition from Gilan's languid joking manner hadn't even phased Maia, but it had come as a shock to the bandit. For a few seconds his good natured shield had slipped and given way to the white-hot fury that lie underneath. In that instant, Gilan was terrifying. And Carney, like most people was already nervous of rangers. They were not people to make angry. And this one seemed very very angry… and so did the girl with the knife at his throat.

"We heard there were good pickings down here!" he admitted immediately.

"Good pickings?" Maia asked. Carney nodded dutifully, eyes never straying from her face.

"All the towns and cities deserted. Nobody there to guard them, all their valuables left lying around for us'n to take as we chose. We didn't harm nobody though," he concluded defensively.

"Oh no," Gilan said, "You didn't harm them. You just crept in while they were gone and stole everything of value that they owned. I think they'd be almost grateful for your contribution!"

"It was Bart's idea, not mine," Carney tried.

Mais scoffed in disgust, a war raging in her eyes. Gilan shook his head at the man sadly before glancing at his partner, knowing she was thinking about what may have happened had she never met Halt, had she never become a ranger. It was a bit of self-hatred Gilan was constantly working to rid her of.

"Gilan?" Will asked tentatively, "How would they have heard the towns were deserted? We didn't hear a thing?"

"Thieves grapevine," Maia answered immediately. "It's like the way vultures gather whenever an animal is in trouble. The intelligence network between thieves and robbers and brigands is incredibly fast. Once a place is in trouble, word spreads like wildfire and they come down on it in their scores. I imagine there are plenty more of them through these hills." She pushed the saxe knife just a little deeper into the flesh of Carney's neck as she spoke, fire in her eyes. "Aren't there?" She was daring him to test her.

Carney almost nodded, but he was just smart enough to realize what would happen to his neck if he did. He gulped, whispering, "Yes, miss."

"And I should imagine you've got a cave somewhere, or a deserted mine tunnel where you've stowed the loot you've stolen so far," Gilan said.

Maia eased the pressure on the knife so that this time Carney was able to nod. His fingers fluttered towards the belt pouch at his waist, stopping once he realized what he was doing. But Maia had already caught the gesture. Her eyebrows raised as she used her free hand to rip open the pouch, fumbling inside of it for a moment before withdrawing a grubby sheet of paper folded into quarters. She passed it to Gilan without a word.

He unfolded the paper to reveal a clumsily drawn map with reference points and directions and distances all indicated. "They've buried their loot, by the looks of this," he told Maia, smiling thinly.

"Good," she smiled darkly, "Then they'll be unable to find it again without their map."

Carney's eyes shot wide open in protest. "But that's ours…"

"You _stole_ it," Maia said lowly.

"You crept in like jackals and stole it from people who are obviously deep in trouble. It's not yours. It's theirs. Or their families', if they're still alive."

"They're still alive," a new voice from behind them said, "They've run from Morgarath- those he hasn't already captured."


	10. Chapter 10

_~"They're still alive," a new voice from behind them said, "They've run from Morgarath- those he hasn't already captured."~_

If her voice hadn't been so soft and pleasant, they would've taken her for a boy. The girl stood at the edge of the campsite, slender and small with blonde hair cut short to a boy's length. She was dressed in a ragged tunic, breeches and soft leather boots bound up the knee. A torn and stained sheepskin vest looked to be her only protection against the cold of the mountain nights. She had only a small bandana tied into a small bundle, containing all her belongings.

"Where the devil did you spring from?" Gilan asked, spinning around to face her. Maia half-turned as well, one arm still holding the knife tight to Carney's throat.

The girl looked to be about Will and Horace's age. She was slim. Underneath the liberal coating of dirt and grime she was pretty with a heart-shaped face, strawberry blonde hair and pretty green eyes above prominent cheekbones and a straight nose. "Oh," she paused, full lips parted as she tried to gather her thoughts. She looked exhausted. "I've been hiding out in hills for weeks now," she said.

"Do you have a name?" Gilan asked, as kindly as the situation allowed for.

She hesitated, obviously pondering thought of giving them a fake name. "Evanlyn Wheeler, from Greenfield fief in Araluen. We were here visiting friends…" She stopped, looking away from Gilan for a moment. _Lying_, Maia thought, _but lying about what? _"Rather, my mistress was visiting friends , when the Wargals attacked."

"Wargals!" Will exclaimed, eyes wide and shining.

Evanlyn looked at his with sad eyes as she responded with a small shrug of narrow shoulders. "Where did you think all the people have gone? Wargals have been attacking towns and villages throughout this part of Celtica for weeks now. The Celts couldn't stand against them. They were driven out of their homes. Most of them escaped to the Southwest Peninsula. But some were captured. I don't know what's happened to them."

Gilan and Maia exchanged a small glance of dreaded understanding before meeting the eyes of their resident apprentices. They'd all been suspecting something along those lines for a while now, but now it was all out in the open.

"I thought I saw Morgarath's hand all this," Gilan said softly. Evanlyn nodded, tears forming in her emerald green eyes. One escaped, leaving a track of glistening clean through the layers of dirt coating her skin. She bowed her head into her hands as her shoulders began to shake.

"Gil'," Maia murmured softly, just as the girl's knees began to buckle.

Carney took her momentary distraction as a chance of escape, striking at her inside elbow so Maia's arm buckled, knife moving from his throat. Maia recovered quicker than Carney was expecting her too. The second her moved to overpower her, her knee came up quick and hard between his legs. He yelped in pain, falling to his knees as she stepped back, rolling her eyes and looking utterly unapologetic.

While Maia dealt with Carney, Gilan moved swiftly forward and caught the girl just before she fell and lowering her gently to the ground, leaning her against one of the rocks positioned around the fireplace and covering her with Maia's bedding. "It's all right. You're safe now. Just rest here and we'll get you something hot to eat and drink."

"Will, could you get a fire going?" Maia asked, never turning her back on Carney even as he was mewling pitifully on the ground. "Just a small one. We're fairly sheltered here I think we can risk it. And Horace? Would you mind helping me tie these two miserable wastes of space up?" She eyed the curled up man on the ground with disgust before bending down to drag him to his feet.

"I've got him, Maia," Gilan murmured quietly, laying a hand on her lower back. "You should go talk to her."

Maia bit the inside of her cheek, knowing she should talk to the girl but dreading it all the same. "Yeah... sure. I can do that."

Gilan smiled softly, rubbing her back softly before moving to deal with Carney.

"Hey," Maia whispered softly, sitting down alongside the sobbing girl. "It's alright, You're safe now," she said reaching out to the girl and putting an arm around her. With labored breaths and shaking shoulders, the girl turned and hugged Maia, laying her head under Maia's and curling into her, crying quietly. Maia hesitantly wrapped her arms around the girl, dragging her hand up and down the girl's back. "You're alright, girlie… just take a breath… the boys'll fix ya something hot to eat and drink. It's alright…" Maia soothed, taking her cloak from around her shoulders and draping it around the girl as the boys moved to their allotted tasks. She gently rocked her back and forth, humming a soft tune under her breath until the girl was lulled to sleep.

Maia, who'd been vaguely uncomfortable with the girl thus far, was suddenly feeling ten times as awkward with a slumbering girl using her as a pillow. Will, who'd been otherwise engaged, heating a pot of water glanced over at her in surprise. Maia only bit her lip and shrugged, trying not to rustle the girl awake.

"It's best to let her rest," Gilan said quietly, eyes dancing in the firelight as he set up their campsite with bedding materials and the like. "She's obviously been under a great strain. You might prepare one of those excellent stews that Halt taught you to make, Will," Gilan grinned slightly.

"Yes, please," Maia grinned, knowing of the ingredients Will was carrying around in that pack of his. When blended together in boiling water, and simmered they resulted in delicious stews that could be further augmented by fresh meats or veggies. After a few days of the cold rations that the three had been living on, a nice, warm, flavorful stew sounded wonderful.

"Pillow duty, is it then?" Gilan asked her, amusement in his voice.

"Apparently," she sighed. "I'm fairly certain any attempt to get up will wake her… and well, she's exhausted. This is most likely the best sleep she's had in a while now." She glanced down into the blonde's sleeping face and sighed. "I'd hate to deprive her of that…"

From the corner of his eye, Will watched the two elder rangers as her prepared both the stew and the coffee. Gilan's eyes softened as the fixated on the female ranger. There was an a small, unobtrusive, but genuine upturn to his lips. Maia on the other hand was sitting up against the rocks surrounding their small campsite. The girl, Evanlyn, was curled into her side, her legs curled to the side. Her head was pillowed on Maia's chest, her arms clutching to Maia's shirt and the cloak she had draped around her. Maia had one arm loosely wrapped around the girl as she looked up at Gilan. Her green eyes sparkled, reflecting the flames he was using to heat their dinner. She looked uncomfortable, awkward in a way Will had yet to see her. He looked uncomfortable with such close contact, but she didn't have the heart to wake the girl.

"Take a nap Maia," Gilan said, "We'll wake you for supper."

"Gil', no, I-"

"Take a nap, Maia," Gilan repeated with a firm, but amused voice. He was smiling over his shoulder at her.

She rolled her eyes, but said no more, resting her head back against the rock and closing her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

_~She rolled her eyes, but said no more, resting her head back against the rock and closing her eyes.~_

Evanlyn woke to the warm, savory smell of Will's soup and fresh coffee. For a moment she looked frightened. Taking into account the warm body she was laying on, she glanced upward into the older girl's amused face. Her face was kind and her eyes sparkled even as her lips pulled into a smirk, "Have a good nap, girlie?" Her voice was smooth if not very high. The laid-back manner in which the older girl teased her somehow put her at ease.

"Something smells awful good," Evanlyn said softly.

"Perhaps you could try a bowlful and then tell us what's been going on in these parts," Gilan said. Maia wasn't surprised to see how his gentle smile put the girl completely at ease. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Will heaped an enamel bowl full of the stew, his own bowl as they had no extra, and moved to give it to their dinner guest. With an appreciative smile and an affectionate ruffle of his hair, Maia pushed the bowl back towards him and instead gave her own to the blonde girl. Her stomach churned slightly, but she paid it no mind as she took her place at Gilan's side.

She only felt that much more assured with her decision to let the kids eat when the girl began to wolf down the stew with an enthusiasm hinting at the fact that she hadn't eaten in days while the boys tore into their own bowls quite happily. Gilan didn't protest when she moved a bit closer and began sneaking bits of meat out of his bowl.

A whining voice from the far rock wall where their prisoners were tied up back to back interrupted their dinner. Carney in a rough and whining voice asked, "Can we have something to eat, sir?"

Maia and Gilan shared a look, neither pausing for more than a second. "Of course not," they scoffed in unison.

Will noticed when Evanlyn picked up on the fact that only Maia wasn't eating out of her own bowl, but was instead mooching off of Gilan's. "Oh," she murmured. It was that syllable which caught Maia's attention, whose bright eyes settled on the girl with mild curiosity. "Would you like to…?" Evanlyn asked, offering the older girl the bowl. A smirk pulled at the edge of Maia's lips; she knew that despite the kind offer, the girl was hoping she'd refuse. There was a significant difference between being hungry, as she was now, and starving, as Evanlyn had been. Maia was intimately familiar with each. "You go on ahead. I'll just steal Gilan's."

Will noticed the smile that lifted the edges of Evanlyn's lips as she went back to wolfing down great spoonfuls of soup with a surprising amount of grace. She paused occasionally to take a sip of steaming hot freshly brewed coffee. Slowly, the color returned to her cheeks. When she'd cleaned the bowl she looked longingly at the stewpot hanging over the fire. With a sideways smile he ladled out another dollop of stew for her. The girl went straight back to eating. When she finished she looked over at Maia who was sitting next to Gilan, her back against his shoulder as they spoke softly to one another. "Go on," Will tolde her encouragingly, "She doesn't bite."

Evanlyn nodded and stood to hand Maia her bowl, uttering a small, "Thanks."

"S'all good," she said nonchalantly, sitting up too ladle herself some stew. "'Guess you were pretty hungry, huh?"

"I was," the girl agreed. "I don't think I've eaten properly in a week."

Prompted by that response, Gilan sat up, hitching himself up into a more comfortable position by the small crackling fire that glowed orange in the steadily growing darkness. "Why not? I would have thought there was plenty of food left in the houses. You could have taken some of that."

Her eyes showed the fear that had gripped her as she shook her head saying, "I didn't want to risk it. I didn't know if there'd be more of Morgarath's patrols around so I didn't dare go into any of the towns. I found a few vegetables and the odd piece of cheese in some of the farmhouses, but precious little else."

Maia nodded in understanding. A few weeks of living on nothing but veggies and cheese,scared of the sounds in the distance, afraid of being found, paranoid and thinking that any moment may give her away; it was a taxing experience on not just the body. It was all too similar to living alone on the streets.

"I think it's time you told us what you know about events here," Gilan told her.

She nodded in agreement, sitting up in a proper fashion, bowing her head slightly as she said, "Not that I know much." She looked up again. "As I said, i was here with my mistress, visiting… friends," Maia's eyebrows raised slightly at the slight hesitation in her words. Will and Gilan picked up on it too.

"I suppose your mistress is a noble lady," Maia said, "A knights wife? Perhaps a lord's wife?"

Evanlyn nodded, her face neutral. "She is daughter to… Lord and Lady Caramon of Greenfield Fief." She responded rather quickly but there was that slight hesitation once again that gave the rangers pause.

Maia glanced at Gilan, wondering if perhaps he knew the nobles mentioned. She certainly didn't. His lips pursed and Maia knew he didn't know them either. "I've heard the name," he said, "Can't say I know him."

"Anyway," the girl began, "she was here visiting a lady of King Swyddned's court -an old friend- when Morgarath's fore attacked."

Maia's eyebrows furrowed as she frowned opening her mouth to ask how that happened exactly when both the cliffs and the Fissure were deemed impassable. It was borderline impossible for an army to get down the sheer granite cliffs forming the boundary between Celtica and the Mountains of Rain and Night; there were no passes, no way up or down, nothing even remotely big enough for troops to cross. Gilan beat her to it.

"Halt says no place it ever really impassable," Will interrupted, Maia couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corner of her lips at apprentice's mention of Halt. "Particularly if you don't mind losing lives in the attempt."

"We ran into a small party of Celts escaping to the south," Evanlyn explained. "They told us how the Wargals managed it. They used ropes and scaling ladders and came down the cliffs by night, in small numbers. They found a few narrow ledges, then used the scaling ladders to cross the Fissure. They picked the most remote spot they could find so they went undetected. During the day, those already across the Fissure hid among the rocks and valleys until they had the entire force assembled. They wouldn't have needed many. King Swyddned didn't keep a large standing army."

Will looked over at Maia and Gilan when he heard the disapproving grunt that come from Gilan. Maia looked to be muttering something under her breath and i didn't appear to be kind.

"They should have," Gilan said.

"The treaty obliged him too," Maia added, her voice almost a growl.

"But remember what I said about people getting complacent? Celts would rather dig in their ground than defend it." Gilan then gestured for the girl to continue.

"The wargals," she began, "overran the townships and mines -the mines in particular. For some reason, they wanted the miners alive. Anyone else, they killed -if they didn't get away in time."

Gilan rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Pordellath and Gwyntaleth are both totally deserted," he said, "Any idea where the people have gone?"

"If they're alive, they've gone south," the girl said. "The wargals seem to be driving that way."

"Makes sense," Maia said, her voice still ringing with anger.

Gilan nodded in agreement. "Keeping them bottled up in the south would prevent word getting out to Araluen."

"That's what the captain of our escort said," Evanlyn told him. "King Swyddend and most of his surviving army retreated to the southwest coast to form a defensive line. Any Celts who managed to get away from the wargals have joined him there."

The girl had an eloquent way of speaking, proper, to the point, precise. She also possessed far more knowledge on both Celtica's monarchy and the politics surrounding its treaty with Araluen. Perhaps this was because she was a lady-in-waiting, but Maia suspected she herself was the lady. The question was, why did she feel she needed to hide?


End file.
